


Concussions and Fluff

by calie15



Category: Arrow - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calie15/pseuds/calie15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity isn't pleased about Oliver's rules</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concussions and Fluff

Felicity began to stir at the slow, rough pull of fingertips against her thigh. She opened her eyes and blinked, taking in the room she had slept in. The night before it had been lit by a solitary lamp, and to be honest she hadn’t spent much time taking in the furnishings. She remembered more of the large, luxurious bathroom then anything, and that was only due to her taking a shower. After a simple mission gone wrong they had ended making a desperate escape and she received a knock to the head. She’d been in no serious danger though, and the head wound had been entirely accidental. It was the reason she found herself waking in a certain billionaires bedroom. He’d been very insistent that she come home with him.

His fingers continued to travel up and down her thigh, brushing against the elastic of her relatively modest underwear. She must have had a head wound if she crawled into bed with him without shorts. At least she’d had enough sense to wear a t-shirt. Perhaps she should bonk her head more often, it seemed to have made her momentarily more confident when it came to sleeping in the same bed as the man pressed against her back. Of course, it wasn’t sleeping in beds with him that left her anxious. It was the other activities they had yet to have.

Her brain was still foggy with sleep and her head still slightly pounded, and for a moment she considered just closing her eyes, but there was intel to go through, so she fought against the urge. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven, AM.”

The heavy curtains did their job when it came to hiding the sunlight. Felicity could have just as easily assumed it was midnight. “I should start going through-.”

Oliver grasped her thigh in response to her words. “No, it can wait.” He heard her sigh. “Felicity, less then twelve hours ago you hit your head and passed out.”

“You wouldn’t be resting,” she pointed out, and she knew he couldn’t deny it.

“You’re right,” he admitted reluctantly. “But this is you and that’s different to me.”

At that she cocked an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it. “So the rules apply differently is what you’re saying.”

“Absolutely,” he stated, this time without a doubt.

Felicity wanted to argue that it wasn’t fair, but a part of her swelled at the idea that he considered her health and safety before his own. And she supposed he was right, she would most likely have done the same to him. Oliver’s words eased her initial discomfort at their bed situation and she turned in his arms. His head rested on his arm, the other now moving up the back of her thigh. “So...”

Oliver widened his eyes just slightly and blinked at the shy smile on her lips. “So.”

“I’m in a bed,” she began and slid her hand up his bare chest, “your in a bed with me.” Then he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Uh!” Felicity groaned in annoyance and tried to turn away. 

Oliver grasped her ass and held her facing him. “As tempting as the idea is Felicity, the fact is you still have a concussion.”

She hated him for being logical. He wasn’t supposed to be the logical one. That was her.

Even though she pouted slightly and glared at him Oliver still couldn’t help but be slightly amused. He rolled onto his back and took her with him. The least he allowed himself was to pull her leg across his hips. Her proximity to him was almost maddening. “Go back to sleep.” 

At his command Felicity sighed and tried to relax. It was hard when half on top of Oliver Queen’s bare chest. People didn’t sleep in proximity to that kind of body. His hands continued to touch her, ghosting over her thigh, dipping just slightly into the back of her panties. It was maddening. Of course, if he was going to touch her then she should have had the luxury of touching him. Slowly, she ran her fingers over his chest, exploring the rise and fall of hard muscle, noting the texture of each scar, paying close attention to each tattoo, smiling slightly when his stomach jumped as she let her hands travel lower. 

“Felicity,” Oliver warned suddenly, a growing erection telling him he better stop her or else things might go downhill fast. He grabbed her wrist, stilling it. She sighed in annoyance and regardless of what she was doing to him a part of him still found her frustration amusing. 

After a time she did start to fall asleep, her lids starting to fall from the gentle back and forth motions of his fingers and the warmth of his body. It must have been her half sleeping state that made her speak. “This isn’t fair. We’re in a bed. We’re supposed to be having hot, sweaty sex.”

Oliver’s first urge was to chuckle, but he pursed his lips to hold it in. Her words were slightly slurred and he knew she was close to sleep. “I promise you,” he responded softly, “when you’re in the clear we can have as much hot, sweaty sex as you want.”

Felicity smiled, her eyes already closed, and she snuggled closer. “I’m holding you to that,” she whispered.


End file.
